


Entreat Me Not to Leave Thee

by CasinoLights



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, PWP, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9546989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasinoLights/pseuds/CasinoLights
Summary: It’s been a full year since Courier Six answered “Yes” when the Burned Man asked to accompany her with a quote from the Book of Ruth. Their mutual respect has turned into trust, and from trust into affection, but never has she given more than a kiss—and never has he pressed for more. He’s read scriptures to her often, through long nights and bad dreams and scathing pain, but none were so intimate as his whispers from the Song of Solomon. She thinks of them all day and watches him intently, wondering if she really does want what she thinks she does. When she finds him alone, undressing in their room... she finally decides that she does.





	

_You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you._  
–Song of Solomon 4:7

* * *

 

The Burned Man sheds his vest, one layer of many, and begins to slip out of his undershirt when the door opens and closes again with a soft click. He knows her footsteps, just as she knows his, and he sighs her name.

“Juno.”

She says nothing, but he feels her eyes upon his back.

“What do you need, love?” He so readily calls her that now, despite her sudden silence whenever he does—but she seems to be in a quiet mood regardless.

“Do you have time?” she asks after a few moments, voice rough with underuse and dry air.

“Plenty,” he replies, turning to face her as he unwinds his bandages. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes.” She pauses, her hands twitch nervously at her sides, and she twists the door handle to make sure it’s locked.

“Juno, are you alright? Do you want to barricade the door?” He looks at her intently, blue eyes narrowed with concern, and motions to a chair beside the bed to show her he’s serious.

He’s spent long enough with Juno that he’s grown accustomed to blocking doors and windows when she has bad nights, and she looks down guiltily when she thinks of it. He shouldn’t have to put up with it, she tells herself, but she knows if she says it aloud he’ll just wave it away and tell her she’s no burden.

“Should I—”

“Stop speaking,” she interjects.

His brow furrows and he opens his mouth as if to ask why, then thinks better of it.

Silently, she slides the chair in front of the door, bracing it under the handle, and returns her attention to Joshua. With swift, measured steps, she crosses the room and places one hand firmly on his shoulder—firmly enough to push him against the wall. With two fingers, she gently pulls the bandages on his face aside and presses her lips to his.

Another thing he’s used to by now: the Heart never asks permission. She would know if it wasn’t granted... but she’s never pushed far enough for that to matter anyway.

Tonight, though, her kisses are hungry and rough, like a drowning woman seeking air, and while one of her hands remains on his shoulder, the other roams across his skin. She finds old bullet wounds, scarred over and scorched, and she lovingly kisses each one. She finds cuts and breaks and bruises and she traces them tenderly with her fingertips.

Joshua rests his head against the wall and swallows a groan as her lips and teeth find his neck, his jaw, that place where his collar meets his shoulder. “Juno—” he starts, but she steals his words with another kiss on the lips.

Slowly, he dares to touch her, too. He starts at her shoulder and when she doesn’t recoil, he slips his hand down to her back, then her waist, then her hips. She presses her body closer to his as if encouraging his wandering hands, and he lifts her shirt to trace the lines of her body more intimately. He feels the rough edges of her scars, the smoother, paler skin of her splotchy birthmarks, and he cautiously feels his way up and up and up until he touches the wire of her bra.

They both stop as he looks into her eyes. _Stop speaking_ , she implores again with her stare. After a second of complete silence, he helps her out of her shirt and they continue in full force. She shifts so she’s pulling Joshua instead of holding him, walking him backward step by step until his knees buckle upon contact with the edge of the bed. He eases onto his back and tugs the rest of his bandages off—just an arm and the crown of his head, now—and she cradles and caresses the newly-exposed skin. While she presses her cool lips against his various scars and pressure points, he slides his hands over her shoulders, then her ribcage, then gingerly cups her breasts.

Again, he meets her eyes, seeking permission to continue. He needn’t, says her stare, and she dips her chest toward him to prove it. He reaches around her and attempts to unfasten the clasp of her bra, and after a few moments of fumbling she gives a breathy chuckle and snaps it off herself.

She shimmies out of it and drops it to the floor behind her, and he shuts his eyes for a beat before taking in her form. Not once has he seen her bare-chested, nor has he asked to, but now...

His hands are cradling her breasts almost automatically, like they know where they’re supposed to be better than he does. He circles one of her nipples with his thumb and leans his head up to kiss his way from her clavicle to the other. She arches downward, one hand pulling him close and the other dropping to his belt and trying to work the buckle.

He helps it off, then throws it over his shoulder and winces when it _thunks_ loudly against the floor. Again, Juno laughs, and it sends a better kind of warmth spreading over his skin. He loves her, oh, God, he loves her. And tonight is the first night they’ve ever been so close, so intimate, and to see her smile and laugh is so much like heaven itself that he fears for an instant he’s dreaming or dying.

Then her fingers trail below his navel, and he knows he isn’t.

She reaches the base of his shaft and traces a finger around it. Testing, teasing, to see if she wants to continue—and she does. She pushes down the waist of his jeans, pulls them down to his knees, then curls those slender fingers around his cock and slides them back and forth across it.

One of Joshua’s hands tangles in the sheets and the other clings hard to her thigh. His eyes flutter closed, though he wants to see her so badly, and his breath freezes in his throat as she continues to stroke him. Her motions are slow, almost curious, as if testing which touches and where, and after a few minutes, she stops. She swipes her thumb over the tip, brushing away a bead of pre-cum, then walks two fingers up his chest while her other hand works at her own pants.

She reaches beyond the waist and touches herself in slow, sweeping motions, but Joshua reaches out and grasps her wrist. With an insistent look that says let me, he pulls her pants down by the waistband and replaces her fingers with his own.

She screws her eyes shut and clenches her fists—a warning sign, he thinks, so he goes slowly and carefully while watching her expression the whole time. She bends at the waist, leaning in toward him so her face is tucked into his shoulder, and he picks up the pace.

He hears a muffled moan beside his ear and he smiles. Her body is loose now, warm atop his, and she holds his free hand tenderly. She’s happy. He’s making her happy. After everything he’s done and everything she’s suffered it feels like a blessing he just hasn’t earned.

She holds herself above him so her entrance is poised right above his cock. He grips himself with one hand to guide it in, and slowly, she eases down onto him. They both shut their eyes then, overcome with long-forgotten sensations and emotions aplenty. While she adjusts to his size, he fits himself against her body, and they carefully shift together to work his shaft inside her. They adopt a rhythm, paced and steady, of up and down and in and out, leaning in to kiss or touch or hold every so often.

His body is so warm and hers is so soft, and every time their hips and thighs meet it sends another wave of pleasure through each. Their breathing is nearly matched, their quiet and measured inhales and exhales filling the room with a gentle white noise. They work together, over and over, shifting every now and then until they find _right there_ or _yes, that_ or _oh, more._

His hands find her hips and hold them down and hers find his shoulders to brace herself with. With eyes closed, she bends toward him and bobs up and down, faster and more careless. _Almost there, almost_. He matches her thrust for thrust and adjusts his hips ever so slightly until she bites her lip and nearly cries out.

He, too, feels that coil of pleasant warmth and tension in his groin, twisting tighter and tighter, and he grunts against her shoulder as he pushes himself to his hilt inside her. She gasps and shudders, her own climax reached and tingling through her nerves, and not long afterward she feels another flush of heat as he spills himself inside her.

He’s still clinging to her hips when she pulls her sweat-damp forehead away from his shoulder and looks at his face, twisted with an expression of ecstasy she’s never seen him wear before.

“Joshua,” she breathes.

“Juno.” He sweeps her blonde curls away from her face and fondly caresses her cheek. “My love.”

Something stings her eyes and her throat burns as if she’s choking. Stunned, she reaches for her eye with trembling hands and finds her cheeks damp. Some strangled noise comes from her mouth and she covers her lips with her hands.

“Juno,” Joshua says again. Gently, he brushes the tears off her cheeks and pulls her toward him. “Come, lie down.”

She curls up next to him, one arm draped over his shoulder, and inhales shakily. “I... why am I crying?”

“Shh.” He strokes her arm slowly, back and forth and back and forth, while his other hand cards through her hair. “It’s alright. I love you, Juno. I love you so much.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you, Joshua.” She turns her head to look at him when he kisses her forehead, and she says, “I love you, too.”


End file.
